October 18th

“Then he sternly ordered the disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Messiah.” Matthew 16:20

you are but one among the hungry
yet we keep our pantries locked,
you are the stranger we meet
but let fear silence our welcome,
you lie among the wounded
but our prayers are drowned out
by the vast indifference of the world,
your name is always on our lips
but never when it might cost us something—
which is all okay, we tell ourselves,
we are simply practicing what
you told your friends so long ago.
yet, despite our stubborn silence
you are still here—
in all those places we avoid,
all the people we walk past,
in every grief-stricken heart,
in every shattered life longing
to be seen.
for the world yearns to see Jesus
in believers who begin living
as if he were here
and not just a well-kept secret.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 17th

Take words with you and return to the LORD; say to him, "Take away all guilt; accept that which is good, and we will offer the fruit of our lips. Hosea 14:2

O God of these unsettled days,
when anger shouts
louder than wisdom,
when fear builds walls
where bridges should be,
when we have more opinions
than compassion,
and more reasons to turn away
than to reach out our hands—
teach us the words
that bring us home to you.
take the broken sentences of our lives,
the apologies caught in our throats,
the prayers that stumble over our grief,
and the hopes we hardly dare to whisper.
let us bring them all—
not polished, not perfect,
but honest as the ache in our hearts.
for you have never asked us
to arrive with everything figured out,
only to come with open hands
and hearts willing to begin again.
so receive the words we have, O God,
and make them seeds of mercy,
instruments of peace,
and promises of love
in a world desperate to hear them.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 16th

"O Lord, you have searched me and known me." Psalm 139:1

you know the ghosts that
inhabit the attics of my memories
and those monsters of my id
hiding in the closets and under
the bed on which i lay my weariness.
you know those words of shame,
of criticism, of unkindness written
in the dictionary of my mind
and you have heard those love
songs, those lullabies i composed
for myself in the silence of life.
you know those sirens who sit
on the rocks singing their seduction
and you know those paths i am still
searching for in my heart.
you know,
because you love me enough
to want to know me even more.

(c) Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 15th

“Yet I have been the LORD your God ever since the land of Egypt; you know no God but me, and besides me there is no savior.” Hosea 13:4

oh, are we good!
at forgetting, that is—
that you didn’t just bring
long-dead ancestors
out of unimaginable lives
in a time covered in dust’s history
but you come far more often
than we notice to offer
a way out of our foolishness.
forgetting that no matter
how many celebrities or
politicians or influencers
we believe can offer us
that impossible life which
is based on today’s equivalent
of smoke and mirrors,
you still pile grace upon grace,
hope upon hope,
peace upon peace
into our empty souls
as you keep your promise
never to forget us.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 14th

And now they keep on sinning and make a cast image for themselves, idols of silver made according to their understanding, all of them the work of artisans. "Sacrifice to these," they say. People are kissing calves! Therefore they shall be like the morning mist or like the dew that goes away early, like chaff that swirls from the threshing floor or like smoke from a window. Hosea 13:2-3

oh, are we good!
at least at making gods
to suit our ridiculous lives—
so shiny, they catch the light,
so small, they slip into our pockets,
so quiet, they never challenge
the choices we make.
we kneel before the idols of our time:
clutching their power,
feeding on their outrage,
worshiping the wealth they promise
(but never carry through on),
turning neighbors into enemies.
is it any wonder
the morning always seems empty,
our promises vanish like the dew,
our fields of plenty leave
too many of us hungry.
so, call us back,
mercy-stubborn God—
from those gods we craft
to that grace we cannot buy,
to the love we dare not hoard,
to justice too long denied,
lest we vanish like the morning fog,
and teach us to become the people
you have been calling us to be—
not creators of idols,
but makers of peace.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 13th

“But as for you, return to your God, hold fast to love and justice, and wait continually for your God.” Hosea 12:6

in these days when so many
have broken their moral compass,
when the world comes apart
at the seams,
and anger gathers like storm clouds
threatening our common life,
God calls us to come home,
like a parent telling kids
playtime is over.
not so we will hide
under our safe blankets,
but to mend the torn places
with the thread of love,
and weave justice into
the fabric of these times
‘hold fast,’ God whispers—
hold fast when fear tries
to pry open our grip on hope,
hold fast when bitterness
taunts us to let go of mercy,
hold fast when the powerful
tell us empathy is for losers.
and as we wait for that future
God is preparing for us
may we be the love
others are longing for.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

October 12th

Why is it thought incredible by any of you that God raises the dead? Acts 26:8

why do we think defeating death
is an impossible challenge for God?
this is the One who
had no trouble putting
together the platypus
from leftover pieces of creation,
who tucked golden spirals
inside of sunflowers,
who, like an abstract artist
splashed ribbons of color
across the northern sky—
and we think death would
be too much to handle?
i mean, this is God—
constantly surprising us
with life in the unlikeliest places,
who can coax flowers to bloom
in the ruins of cathedrals,
who whispers spring
in the ear of old man winter,
and writes on the pages
of the lives we think are done

the real wonder is not that
God has trouble raising the dead,
but that we keep forgetting
how much God delights in
bringing life out of all those
impossibilities we create
death may indeed be
the worst word
in our vocabulary,
but has never been
the last word God
knows how to say.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman